Polar Vortex
by nemebean
Summary: The mortal world feels the effects of the events in Cold Days. What can a newly minted member of the Summer Court do about it? Spoilers for Cold Days


Polar Vortex

"Thank you, Lady Summer," the golden-haired sprite said as we concluded our business.

The business of running the Summer Court.

I shook my head in mild amazement – who would ever have thought the daughter of Queen Mab, monarch of the Winter Court and eternal adversary of the Summer Court, could end up with the mantle of the Summer Lady. I certainly hadn't, and it seemed no one else had either. No one except my late sister, Maeve, that is.

A host of conflicting emotions ran through me at the thought of her. Frustrated anger at the way she had taken away my choice between the mortal and faerie worlds, sympathy for the fact that she too had been forced into service of an entity against her will, and, somewhat surprisingly, a lingering sadness that she was gone. Don't get me wrong, Maeve and I never saw eye-to-eye, and we had clashed innumerable times over the years. But then, isn't that what siblings do? Granted, most siblings don't have the enormous power of the Winter Lady's mantle, which she abused to the fullest of her ability.

Maybe I was feeling some bitterness too.

My thoughts were interrupted by someone Calling my Name. Not anyone present, but a distant voice carried to me via magic. Since becoming the Summer Lady I knew whenever my Name was said. Usually it was just a strange but mild sensation, like mental cobwebs brushing against me. Most were without any real intent and barely noticeable. Some were humans who had known me before my ascension to the Summer Court, generally wondering where I had gone. After all, I did have a life before all this and there hadn't been time to wrap up all the loose ends. Others were members of the Faerie courts. Those mentions were generally of a more speculative nature. I had been known to many here before, of course, but back then I was looked on as more of a pet than a peer. Now I outranked all but a few in the courts, and that was cause for much discussion among them.

But this person was different. She was Calling me, putting her will into the act. I would have heard her even in a hurricane. _Sarissa,_ she said. _Sarissa, please. I must speak with you._

Despite how new I was to the office, there were few who would dare to summon me. This, however, was one who could do it without risking serious repercussions. I waited a few seconds to see if she would say my Name a third time and make it binding. That would be incredibly rude and didn't seem like her style, but then she was the Winter Lady now. I knew the effect that could have on people.

Which gave me pause. As Summer Lady I could take care of myself, but that didn't mean I had any business rushing off to meet a powerful member of the Winter Court simply because she asked. For all I knew she was luring me into a trap.

However, if she had ill intent then she likely wouldn't have left me a choice in the matter. Whatever she was up to, she wanted me there of my own free will – though I wasn't sure how much of that I had left. I was still fuzzy on just how much influence the new mantle had on my thoughts and actions.

After a long enough delay to satisfy me she wasn't going to force the issue, I opened a Way and went to her location. I could have simply appeared there, but many considered that rude as well, something along the lines of sneaking up behind a person and yelling, "Boo!" I was fortunate in that I had spent enough time around the Faerie courts to pick up much of their etiquette. The young woman I was going to visit had had no such luxury.

I stepped out of the Way into a snowy scene, and immediately anything near me began to melt. It wasn't intentional, just something that happened. I was met by my counterpart from the Winter Court. Her appearance was eye-catching – not that such a thing was particularly noteworthy here – but even before receiving her mantle she had cut a striking figure. Under other circumstances her unusual height might have been intimidating, but fortunately the look on her face said she was just happy I had come. Given that we were supposed to be enemies, I had to wonder why.

"Lady Winter," I greeted her.

"Lady Summer," she responded, her mouth quirking in a small smile. "I'm still not quite used to the new title yet."

"Nor am I," I admitted. "I suppose it will sink in the first time someone tries to stab me in the back for it."

She raised her eyebrows. "They haven't already?"

I wanted to believe she was joking, but I knew the Winter Court too well.

"Not yet," I said. "Perhaps Summer is not as fond of such things."

"I wouldn't want to bet my life on it," she replied.

I nodded in acknowledgment. Neither of the courts were anything to take lightly. "Why did you need to speak with me?"

She looked down at the ground, clearly uncomfortable, like a child caught doing something she wasn't supposed to. In a way, that may have been true. She quickly recovered her bearing, however, and I had to wonder if my mother had been "training" her to project the correct demeanor. It could be dangerous to show any weakness, even in posture or mannerism.

"It's your mother," she said simply.

I frowned. "What's wrong? You don't think...you-know-what got to her, do you?"

"No, no, nothing like that," she said with a wave of her hand. "Actually, the problem is you."

I was already frowning, but it took on a more confused aspect at her words. "How do you mean?"

"Well, I can't be sure, but I think...I think she misses you."

It would have been less of a shock if she'd thrown a bucket of ice cold water in my face.

"That can't be right. She would never show emotion like that," I argued.

"But that's just it," she said. "She's _not_ showing it, not outwardly anyway. It's manifesting in other ways though. Have you heard anything about how winter for the mortals has been this year?"

"I can't say that I have. Summer doesn't tend to get very involved with the mortal realm this time of year. It's Winter's turn to hold sway there."

"So it is, and boy are we ever holding it." She paused for a beat. "Holding it in a death grip, you might even say."

"That doesn't sound good."

"Oh, it's great if you're a snowman. For the mortals, not so much. They're calling it a 'polar vortex', which I suppose means your mother has a new title to add to her résumé," she said wryly.

"Why don't you just ask her to stop?"

She let out a silvery peal of laughter. "The Winter Lady asking the Winter Queen for _less_ winter? I'm sure you can see how that wouldn't go over well."

"I suppose you're right," I admitted with some embarrassment. "Which actually raises a good question: why _do_ you care? It sounds like paradise for anyone from Winter."

"Because Winter Lady or not, some of those people down there are my family and friends. And at the rate this is going, Mab is going to set off another ice age."

I shook my head. "I don't see what you think I can do about it. I have no power over her, certainly not this time of year. Maybe if it were July, but it will be months before Summer has dominion over Winter again."

For a second she just stared at me in shock. "Do you really believe that? You do, don't you?" she asked incredulously. "You're her _daughter._ You may be the only one who _can_ do anything. That's what this is all about!"

"I...don't understand."

"Now, I could be wrong. I'm still very inexperienced here," she hedged. "But I believe the brutal winter is a result of the emotions she's holding inside. Grief for Maeve. And for you."

My eyebrows went up in surprise. "But I'm not dead, at least last I checked," I said, running my hands over my body to make sure it was still corporeal. _The strange things one __has to do__ when part of a __f__aerie court,_ I thought.

"No, but you're the Summer Lady now. As far as she's concerned you might as well be dead."

Another bucket of ice water. I'd been so busy getting up to speed on the duties of my new office that I hadn't had time to consider some of the more personal implications. I was now the sworn enemy of the Winter Court. True, there was some interaction between members of the opposing groups – this meeting between the Summer and Winter Ladies an obvious example – but there was little to none involving the Queens. To my knowledge the last time they'd even had a common goal was when Aurora tried to destroy the Summer Court, and even then the Queens had used Harry Dresden as a go-between rather than directly working together.

"Oh my," was all I could say.

"I'm sorry," said the Winter Lady. "I'm sure this is difficult for you to hear, but I have no other options. Will you at least try to talk to her?"

"I...will," I said quietly.

"Thank you," she replied in obvious relief.

"I don't know if she'll even answer my call though," I cautioned.

She smiled and shook her head gently. "You obviously don't have much experience with mothers. She'll answer."

"She's not exactly a normal mother," I said, smiling weakly back.

"Neither is mine." Then she added with a grin, "I'm starting to believe there's no such thing."

With that, she tipped an imaginary cap to me, gestured, and blinked out of sight.

I was left to consider what she had told me. It was difficult to believe that my mother, literally the Ice Queen, would let her emotions have so much influence. Sometimes it was difficult to tell she _had_ any emotions other than aloof detachment. Even when someone angered her she dealt with it in a calculating way, without any excess of passion. I imagined that she saw any significant display of emotion as a weakness her enemies might exploit. If they knew how to make her angry, and did so at just the right moment, it could be disastrous. Better to keep them guessing.

But at the same time, I knew she cared for me in some way. There was never any overt indication of it, though that wasn't surprising. She would never come right out and say something, not if she could instead mislead and confuse with her words. It's just who she was.

And yet, she showed it in small ways. A carefully emphasized word here, a small gesture there. Even when I'd been a mortal, she'd gone out of her way to spend time with me, visiting amusement parks, going to concerts, and plenty of other activities far outside the norm for the Winter Queen, but not that odd for a mother and daughter. I had always wanted to believe she did those things at least in part because she could do them with me, even though she would say it was for other reasons. Then again, as I had already noted, her stated reasons were rarely her real ones. They were almost always a cover for something else, even multiple something elses. I hoped I had at least made the list somewhere.

Which led me to one conclusion: the Winter Lady was right. My mother may have kept a tight rein on her emotions, but that didn't mean she wasn't feeling them. Since maternal instincts struck me as some of the strongest emotions anyone could have, if she was trying to hold those inside I had no doubt they might make themselves known in other ways.

I wanted to do something. Not only was I sympathetic to the Winter Lady's pleas – having been one of those poor mortals not so long ago myself – but with a mantle of Summer I was inclined to fight against Winter's cold simply on principle. It felt so _right_ to intervene in this matter that I had to question how much was coming from me, and how much from the mantle.

That was a problem for another day though. For now, the mantle and I were in complete agreement.

Besides, Queen of the Sidhe or not, she was still my mother. I wasn't fond of the idea of never seeing her again either.

But what to do? As far as I knew, there was no way to abdicate the position of Summer Lady. Not without dying at least, which would rather defeat the whole purpose. Even at the height of Summer's power it would have been unwise to force her to see me, and that seemed like the wrong approach anyway. However, if the Winter Lady was right then there might be other options. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I realized I already had the answer. It was simply a question of packaging it in a way that my mother could accept.

I closed my eyes and whispered, "Mab," putting my will behind the word in hopes that I could attract her attention as the Winter Lady had attracted mine. I waited for some time, but there was no sign of her. Just to be sure, I Called her Name once more. I waited as long as I thought reasonable, and then longer in case she'd been detained somehow. Still, she never appeared.

It left me in a quandary. I couldn't very well say her Name a third time and make it an irresistible summons. Regardless of why she wasn't coming to me, she would be very upset – to put it mildly – if I did. For my plan to succeed I needed her in a receptive mood, or at least not a combative one. Summoning her was not an option.

So I stood there in the cold of Winter, not the least bit uncomfortable in my lightweight clothing, but no closer to finding a way to speak with my mother. It seemed she wanted nothing to do with me now that I was in the enemy's camp.

Just as I was about to head back to the relative safety of Summer, something the Winter Lady had said came back to me. The Winter Queen might not willingly answer the Summer Lady, but maybe my mother would answer Sarissa.

"Mother," I said this time, again putting my will behind the word.

At first nothing happened, then her regal form simply appeared in front of me, looking disapprovingly at the circle of melted snow around my feet. I recognized some of my features in her face, but where before I had always thought myself a poor reflection of her supernaturally gorgeous appearance (though some of my mortal would-be suitors seemed to disagree), now I found myself able to face her with confidence. As Summer Lady I was capable of just as much beauty as she was. _Even more,_ whispered my mantle, but I brushed it aside. I wasn't here to compare notes on who was hotter with my mother. That would just be weird.

She'd arrived in a conservative silver dress, which I took as a good sign. Pure white would have suggested she was there as an uncompromising part of Winter, and black...well, no one wanted to see her in black. In the mortal world someone wearing that color might mean there _had_ been a death, but when she wore black it meant there was _about_ to be one.

"This is rather irregular," she said with a hint of a frown.

"I know," I said, holding my hands up placatingly. "But I thought it was time we finally talked."

"We have nothing to say to each other."

"Do you really believe that?" I asked, then held her gaze for what seemed like an eternity. It was a risk to challenge her this way, but there was no one else around and I needed her to accept that this was not as simple as a conversation between the Winter Queen and the Summer Lady.

"Very well. Speak your mind," she said at last.

I almost didn't know what to do. She'd made a concession – a small one, to be sure, but even that was a momentous occasion. I suddenly realized I'd been half expecting her to dismiss me out of hand, and was struck again by how prescient the Winter Lady's words were. My mother was willing to speak with me, in spite of all that stood between us.

I recovered my composure and said, "I believe I shall miss our visits to the mortal world. I propose that we continue them, despite our...complicated positions." I paused. "It seems we may both now need reminders of what the mortal world is like."

"Impossible," she replied with a sharp shake of her head. "Regardless of our personal history, Winter and Summer are enemies. That can never change."

"Which is precisely why you should accept my offer."

She gave no reaction for a moment, then I saw a startled realization dawn in her eyes. I was offering Mab a chance to get her daughter back, and I'd given the Winter Queen enough justification to make it work. She understood what I was doing, but would she go along with it?

"What is it the mortals say?" she began. "Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?"

"See? Those trips were useful," I said with a smile, trying not to betray too much of the excitement I felt.

"Indeed," she answered thoughtfully. "Then I accept your proposal. We shall continue our visits to the mortal world until such time as I believe there is no more value to be gained from them."

She started to turn away, but stopped and gave me an unreadable look, saying, "It seems I gained a clever and dangerous enemy that night on Demonreach." Then she turned away and disappeared off to who-knew-where.

It was as close to "I'm proud of you" as she was ever going to get.

The End

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